


no longer alone

by ishippeditovernight (sonofabitch_awesome)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cas is back, Chuck brought him back :D idk what show y'all are watching but that's what happened on my TV, Coda, Comforting Castiel, Dean Has Nightmares, Domestic, First Kiss, Fix-It, Fluff, M/M, POV Castiel, Post-Episode: s12e23 All Along the Watchtower, Sort of? - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-21
Updated: 2017-05-21
Packaged: 2018-11-03 08:48:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10963788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sonofabitch_awesome/pseuds/ishippeditovernight
Summary: Cas finds himself lost in thought as he remembers fighting through Hell to get to him years and years before. In a thousand millennia he would never have been able to anticipate the way he'd begin to feel for Dean Winchester.Currently, Dean is faced away from him on his side, but he has dragged Cas's hand with him, keeping their fingers entwined. Cas can tell from the sound of Dean's breathing that he isn't quite asleep yet.For several long minutes, they lie in silence. Comfortable. Strangely domestic.-(Brief reference to 9x03)





	no longer alone

**Author's Note:**

> What a wild finale. I'm glad Chuck showed up in the last second to bring Cas back, though, AMIRIGHT?!?! *hysterical rocking back and forth*
> 
> There is a brief reference to 9x03 in part 5, just a heads-up.
> 
> Title and opening lyrics are from M2M's "Eventually" (whoooaaaa flashback to my 16 year old self haha) because I wanted lyrics and it happened to be on. <3

**no longer alone**

_so this is it_

_to you i belong_

_no more goodbyes_

_we knew all along_

 

i. **the first time you helped me sleep**

 

The first night, he does not wake Dean.

Cas is wandering past the shelves in the Bunker, awash in memories as his fingertips trace book spines. He glances over at the tables and, as if watching a montage of scenes in a TV show fade through each other, can see endless versions of Sam, Dean, and himself. Researching. Relaxing. Watching things on Sam's laptop. Studying maps, books, articles online. Talking to other hunters, to those involved in cases, to friends and loves.

He smiles quietly.

Even the bad times here-- he saves them, too. Enemies finding their way inside, tragic news found out, the time Dean had beaten him while under the influence of the Mark-- He savors them all because he's _here_ to remember them. And they complement the better memories; brings out their sweetness that much more for the contrast.

 _I'm very lucky_ , he thinks, and takes a deep breath.

It is sometime after that that he hears a muffled noise down one of the halls. Cas lifts his head and listens.

Dean.

For a moment, Cas remains motionless, unsure whether to go to him or not. But as the cries of alarm continue, he's already on his way.

He finds Dean partially on his side and partially curled up, muttering in his sleep. "No... no, Cas, god--"

Guilt sears through Cas, hot and uncontrolled. If he'd been faster, if he'd been smarter, if he'd been more on the ball, he could have avoided Lucifer's attack, avoided burning the memory of his death into Dean's consciousness. If Cas manages to be around for several millennia more, he will never forget the look on Dean's face after he was resurrected. The pain had been etched so deep that the relief could never fully cover it.

Dean is still restless in his sleep now, head thrashing, fingers clutching the sheets. " _No_ \--"

He cannot stand it any longer and reaches out to place two fingers gently against Dean's forehead.  Cas is surprised when his friend continues to whimper; this should have been effective right away.

Gradually, though, Dean's sleep is eased. Hands unclaw. Tremors slow, then almost completely stop. Breathing smoothes.

Cas pulls his hand back and watches him for a few moments more. Just to be safe.

At last, he murmurs, "Good night, Dean," and turns to leave. Lines crease his own forehead as he turns back from the door, casting one final look. "I'm so sorry."

 

-

 

ii. **the first time i knew you were there**

 

The second night, Dean wakes up beforehand.

It is only a day later, and Cas isn't sure whether he's surprised or not that Dean continues to have troubled sleep. He's sitting in the library, peering through an old book but not able to concentrate adequately to absorb any of its information, when he hears Dean again.

There is no hesitation this time. Cas closes the book and is promptly on his way, the sick residue of guilt coating the back of his mind as he approaches Dean's room.

He's not sure what it is; maybe he made a small noise without realizing it as he opened the door, or as he stepped into the room. Either way, as he comes closer to press his fingers against Dean's forehead again, Dean suddenly twists mid-nightmare, crying out, and his head knocks into Cas's hand barely hard enough that his eyelids flutter before he blinks them open.

Dean focuses his eyes on Cas, standing there next to the bed. "Guhh-- C-Cas?"

"Yes." Cas awkwardly takes a step or two backward. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to intrude-- You were having a nightmare."

"Nnn." Dean coughs and drags his fingertips over his eyelids. "Happens." He peers up at Cas and props himself up on his elbows. "You doin' okay?"

Cas nods. "I'm fine. I --" He pauses to compose himself. "I don't like knowing you're suffering, Dean."

Dean just gives him a long look filled with a thousand words. Finally, he sits up. "You don't have to worry about _me_ , Cas. I've had nightmares before. I'll have them again. But how've you been? Really?"

Sensing that things won't be as simple as he'd hoped, Cas takes a seat on the side of the bed and interlaces his fingers together. "I'm all right, Dean. Truly. God repaired me and returned me to where I was before-- before everything." Cas means before that night; he's back to where he was before his grace was stolen, before he was human-- essentially, he was reset. He is better now than he has been in years.

But he doesn't want to bring any of those pointless memories out into the open now, so he leaves it at that and returns his attention to his hands. "Please," he continues. "Let me ease your sleep?"

Dean takes a deep, fatigue-lined breath and lies back against his pillow. "Yeah," he murmurs, eyeing Cas with clear concern. "Sure. But you-- you gotta say somethin' if you're... if you're not doin' well. You hear?"

Cas nods and stands, stepping a small bit closer along the edge of the bed. "Of course, Dean." He smiles affectionately and reaches out. "Sleep well, now."

Dean holds onto his arm as Cas touches his forehead, his grasp quickly loosening as consciousness slips away. The contact, however brief, makes some knot of tension in Cas's stomach unloosen a little.

When he prepares to leave, he checks back, and can't help but smile again. Dean is sleeping restfully now, and that in itself will do wonders for Cas's sense of peace more than anything else at the moment.

 

-

 

iii. **the first time we shared a bed**

 

The third night, he is wandering the halls in anticipation for the nightmares.

These halls hold memories, echoes of conversations and battles shadowed against the cold surfaces. Cas stops mid-stride when he realizes he's in the same area where he got an upper hand on the demon version of Dean, his arms straining to hold him in place as stubbornly and vigorously as Dean struggled to shake him off, to break free from Cas's grip. Sam's tense sigh of relief, looking on, his alarm impossible to discard quite yet.

He bites his lip and keeps going. Even then, he had almost failed. Had almost not shown up in time. And had it not been for Crowley (so many confused thoughts and emotions slamming through Cas's mind at his name), Cas would quite probably have failed with what limited grace he had at the time. A spasm of pained guilt jolts through him as he realizes he's weighing the cost of saving Dean versus the angel who had to die for the grace Cas had needed--

But in their lives, things have never been simple, or black and white. It isn't that easy, and that is the plain truth.

As he wanders down another hallway, he hears it. The _no_ s, the calls of his name.

He goes, then.

Cas is too late this time. As he opens the door to see Dean sitting up and scrubbing the heels of his palms over his face, he is startled to see a glimmer of wetness on Dean's cheek before his hand rubs past and obscures the area.

"Hey," Dean mutters, yawning. He blinks reddened eyes. "Sorry."

"No, I'm sorry, Dean," Cas says. The lines in the forehead of his vessel feel as if they will never truly go away with how often he frowns now. "I should have been closer. I was waiti--"

Dean holds up a hand. "Stop apologizing, okay? It's--" He scratches his neck. "God. Cas. You have literally nothing to say sorry for."

"But--"

"Nothing." Dean crosses his arms. "So. Did you-- were you gonna say you were waiting?"

Cas glances down, and then back up. "Yes," he finally admits. "It's been hard for me to get any rest, so I've been sitting up reading most nights."

There is a short pause. Dean seems unsure what to say, and Cas does not know what to add. He toys with one of the edges of his coat, absently thinking of the one he'd had to leave blood-spotted in a laundromat. Even now, part of him wishes he'd been able to track the same style down.

"Cas, well..." Dean shrugs and trails off uncertainly. Cas realizes that Dean is unconsciously mirroring his anxious fiddling; his hands twining the blanket in between his fingers, back and forth, untwisted and re-twined. "If you're having trouble sleeping, and-- and you're, uh, lurkin' outside my room like some creeper, you could just stay in here, you know?" One shoulder lifts and falls, too-casually, Cas thinks. Dean lifts his gaze. "Seems easier."

He frowns. "Are you sure?"

Dean scoff-laughs. "Well, I'm not sayin' I want to cuddle or anything, but--" He swallows. "Yeah. Yeah, I mean, why not?" He nods. "Got plenty of room here anyway."

That's not quite true, as it turns out. After Dean scoots back, there is room, but Cas wouldn't categorize it as "plenty." They end up lying on their sides, closer than Dean probably thought, but to his credit, he doesn't say anything.

"Okay," Dean says now. "You're not a sleep-kicker, are ya? Or snore?" He grins. Arm crooked up under his head and elbow out. "Man, if you drool, I'll be _so_ pissed."

Cas watches him. "Dean--"

But he doesn't know what to say.

Of course, now that Cas is back to normal, he doesn't _require_ sleep. But he enjoys it nevertheless; has always found it pleasant on the rare occasions he indulged. Most often, though, when he rests, he prefers to remain in a meditative trance-like state, somewhere between sleep and wakefulness where he could react faster if he needed to, but to where he could also rest.

He settles for returning Dean's smile. "You've been known to snore yourself," Cas says.

Dean rolls onto his back. "Okay, Creepy, _suuurre_." There's a slightly embarrassed tinge to his words that gives him away, though, and he turns his head to look back at Cas. He is beautiful when he blushes.

"Good night, Dean," Cas tells him, still quietly beaming.

"Night."

 

-

 

iv.  **the first time we held hands**

 

The fourth night, neither of them have bothered discussing alternatives to the previous night's solution. When Dean gets up from the table, he gives a slightly expectant look in Cas's direction before he heads toward his bedroom.

Sam doesn't miss this. He frowns at Cas. "So-- Are--?"

"I-- No, Sam," Cas replies. He takes a last drink of his tea and stands, unsure what (or how much) to tell his friend. As much as the brothers know about each other, the depths of their traumas and triumphs, he doesn't want to make too big of a deal about Dean's struggles and nightmares if Dean's not comfortable with it.  "He's, um, he's having some trouble sleeping right now, so..."

Sam nods slowly. Knowingly. "Got it." He holds a hand up, palm showing, and drops it along with the subject as he returns his attention to the laptop in front of him. Cas doesn't miss the smirk barely suppressed under Sam's forced facade of nonchalance.

It doesn't matter. Although Cas has known for a long time he cares about Dean in a strong way-- cannot remember not feeling this way, in fact-- he won't do anything without Dean feeling the same in return.

And he can't ignore the stab of pain at the thought that he doesn't find it likely that Dean will ever cross that line.

"Anyway," Cas says now, glancing up from the cup of tea he's been staring into, "I'm just going to-- um, I'll see you in the morning, Sam."

Sam catches his gaze again. "Good night," he tells Cas. He opens his mouth again, as if to say something else, but doesn't. He nods his head once. His lips curl up.

Cas finds Dean lying awake, staring at the ceiling. He turns and watches as Cas walks in, closing the door behind him. "Hey."

"Hello, Dean," Cas murmurs. If only to relish the way light come back into Dean's eyes.

Dean grins. "God, you know, I never thought I'd be _that_ glad to hear that damn phrase." A jagged sigh escapes him, relief intermingled with the afterimage of pain. "Uh, you know, not to get all-- all Hallmark on you or anything," he adds quickly, covering. Embarrassed.

Cas diplomatically chooses not to say anything else, but he can't hide his pleased smile. He toes off his shoes and gets onto the bed next to Dean.

They lie comfortably for a while, not looking at each other. The silence is safe, not stifling like Cas had worried it might be.

He waits and listens as Dean's breathing as it slowly evens out. _Sleep peacefully, Dean_ , Cas thinks, great affection washing over him as he turns to cast one more look at the man next to him.

Dean might not have any nightmares tonight-- he hadn't last night, once Cas had stayed-- but still. Cas worries. He watches Dean carefully and extends his hand. He just wants to ensure... A faint trace of his grace, a buffer against anguish. That's all it would take.

Right as Cas is about to touch his fingers against Dean's temple, Dean shifts. He isn't quite asleep, and for some reason he opens his eyes.

"Oh." Cas freezes.

Dean stares at the hand still hovering over his head. "...Hey," he mumbles, voice thick with encroaching slumber. "Why don' we try this?" He reaches for Cas's hand and holds onto it. "If you need to, y'know..." Yawns. "Hold contact for the, the, uh, whatever it is you do." And completely unbothered, he closes his eyes and settles in for sleep the same way he would if he were alone and not holding his friend's hand next to him in the bed.

Maybe... Maybe things aren't as hopelessly one-sided as Cas has been thinking.

For now, he relaxes and lets himself drift into unconsciousness, feeling truly content for the first time in a long time. He keeps a tendril of his grace connected to Dean, a tiny part of him awake and aware enough to stay on guard for the nightmares. And then the rest is blissfully quiet and tranquil.

 

-

 

v. **the first time we kissed**

 

The fifth night, Cas and Dean retire to Dean's bedroom with very little fuss. In such a short time, staying with him has started to feel safe, easy, normal.

Like home.

It brings a vibrant glow of warmth inside the deepest parts of his vessel's chest. This place, being here with Sam and especially Dean-- it can never completely replace his true home, but he has long since started to think different things regarding the concept of _home_ and _family_.

He remembers a thing the brothers have quoted from Bobby: "Family don't end with blood." And it is one thing to know the sentiment on an intellectual level, but he's really come to appreciate it more and more as time goes on.

Sam, for one, is more of a brother than several of Cas's own siblings have been to him. Accommodating, loyal, encouraging, and forgiving no matter how often Cas has screwed up-- it is a debt Cas worries he will never be able to repay to him, and yet, to Sam, it's not something to worry about. It's just the way the situation is: accepting your friend for who they are, caring about and helping them no matter what.

And Dean...

Cas finds himself lost in thought as he remembers fighting through Hell to get to him years and years before. In a thousand millennia he would never have been able to anticipate the way he'd begin to feel for Dean Winchester. Words don't begin to describe it.

Currently, Dean is faced away from him on his side, but he has dragged Cas's hand with him, keeping their fingers entwined. Cas can tell from the sound of Dean's breathing that he isn't quite asleep yet.

For several long minutes, they lie in silence. Comfortable. Strangely domestic.

And then Dean twists and shifts position so that he's facing Cas. "Hey," he says in a voice that languor has scrubbed of gruffness.

"Hi." Love washes over Cas's entire being as he drinks in Dean's sleepy-domestic expression. Being brought back was one thing, but this...? This is indescribable.

"Stop smiling at me like that, weirdo," Dean murmurs, but with not a trace of annoyance. And despite his own apparent efforts to fight it, he's grinning in return.

Cas involuntarily squeezes Dean's hand.

Something in the air changes. Cas cannot quite pinpoint exactly what it is, but there's something suddenly different in Dean's expression as the two lie there, gazes locked on each other.

He's not so out of sync with the world that he doesn't know what to do as Dean leans closer to him, though. Cas lets his eyelids flutter shut and moves in to meet him halfway, finally understanding that silly phrase _butterflies in the stomach_.

It's nothing like the previous times Cas has experienced kissing. Not surprised aggression matching the way he'd explored the concept with Meg; not desperate deception meant to trick a vessel's husband. Certainly not uncomfortable come-ons offered by a gleeful reaper inhabiting someone else at a time he was vulnerable.

And he has seen Dean kiss others before: confident, flirty, even when he was being caring and gentle with his previous partners.

But this...

Their lips meet so gingerly at first that it could almost be passed off as an accident. They pull away; Cas doesn't know if Dean is looking at him, since his own eyes remain closed. And then they kiss again, and he can feel Dean's fear slip away. The pressure is greater now; the contact of their mouths lasts for longer.

Too soon, it's over, and they're separate beings again, looking at each other with new awareness and understanding.

The silence is the sound of rain during a heavy storm: the potential to be frightening is there but it is mostly comforting and safe.

Dean smiles at him, and Cas begins to suspect that Dean's sleep will be undisturbed tonight.

He's not so sure about his own and those damn butterflies, though.

 

-

 

vi. **the first time we slept together**

 

The next night comes after a very unproductive day. They've spent several hours trying to track Jack down, to absolutely no avail. He has simply vanished, and nobody they try to contact has heard any leads or has any ideas where to begin to search.

Sam finds a couple of cases, though. Easy ones, one within a day's driving distance and the other three hours away from the first town. He volunteers to take them both, alone, and with only minor halfhearted protests, Dean agrees.

As he prepares to head out the door, Sam casts a warm smirk down into the war room at them both. "So. I'll just..." A bit of a laugh escapes, not unkindly. "Should I knock before I come back?"

Dean rolls his eyes and flips his brother off. "See ya."

But that night, as they're lying there in the dark, Cas again finds it baffling and strange-- in a good way-- that Sam seems to be ahead of them so often.

He loves the feeling of Dean's fingers in his hair, Dean's mouth on his, Dean's hands slipping down to slowly peel the trenchcoat down from Cas's back and shoulders before pausing to break the kiss.

Dean examines his expression carefully. "Hey," he whispers, interrupting the silence, his voice barely audible. "This okay?"

Cas nods, pushing himself up with one hand as he starts to shrug and shift out of the two layers of coats he's wearing with Dean's assistance.

The sex is a much a part of the way things have been going so far in this room: easy, natural, right, careful. He can't say he has much experience in matters, but it's easily the best night of his life, and from the look on Dean's face as he comes mere seconds after him, Cas thinks the sentiment is returned.

They curl up afterward, his back to Dean's chest and their hands entwined, as they have every night since the first time they held hands.

And for the first time since all of this began, Cas finds his worries about Dean's state of mind and nightmares eased and erased.

 

-

 

vii. **the first time i told you...**

 

The last night, they retire to Dean's room ( _their_ room?), and as sleep approaches, Dean squeezes Cas's hand.

"Hey," he mumbles. "Meanin' to say this. Love you too."

Cas's heart thrums, a smile frozen on his face as he follows Dean into sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on [tumblr](http://ishippeditovernight.tumblr.com/) if you're curious <3


End file.
